


Spare Key

by cinnaluminum



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Character Study, Complicated Maryse Lightwood, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e06 Iron Sisters, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, POV Jace Wayland, POV Third Person, Parabatai Feels, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-03 21:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10258703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaluminum/pseuds/cinnaluminum
Summary: Coda to S2E6, Jace POV.“It takes a rare kind of courage to be so explicitly vulnerable, and it’s not the kind of courage Jace has ever specialized in. He knows it when he sees it, though, every time Magnus stands in front of Alec with his big, glittery heart on his sleeve.”





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story is basically several thousand words of that expression Jace has on his face when Alec kisses Magnus at the wedding. Or maybe several thousand words of the way Magnus looks at Alec right before Alec kisses him. Or both, really. I wanted to explore more of what Jace, who has known Alec a long time obviously, must be thinking, seeing him change so quickly because of Magnus. I’m also fascinated by the dichotomy between Magnus’ bold, flirtatious approach to Alec and his determination to step back and let Alec decide what he wants in the end. I have more stuff to say about all of that, but a story is more fun to read than an essay so I will stop there :-P
> 
> I started this as a coda to “Iron Sisters” (S2E6) and that’s still essentially what it is, but I got carried away, and it got long and character study-ish. It picks up immediately after Jace shows up at Magnus’ apartment and asks if he can stay. It will be two parts, and most of the second part is already written; I’ll probably have it polished and ready to post next week. Unbetaed because I’m just getting back into this writing thing. I’m not sure about the pacing. Let me know what you think.

Jace stands awkwardly in Magnus Bane’s living room, pretending very hard that he can’t hear his brother and his brother’s warlock boyfriend out on the balcony having a polite but intense whisper-fight about whether Alec is going to stay for dinner. He looks around for some kind of distraction, and finds that distraction is easy enough in the warlock’s rather opulent apartment. The layout of the loft is subtly different than what he remembers from the last time he was here, but it’s still a beautiful space. The furniture looks elegant, some of it obviously antique even to Jace’s untrained eye, but it’s also comfortable, lived-in. Nothing like Alec’s room at the Institute, which is pretty spartan despite the fact he’s lived there most of his life. As he looks around, though, Jace notices traces of Alec’s presence all over the loft. A spare leather arm guard abandoned on the end table by the couch, a worn pair of boots Jace bets Magnus wouldn’t be caught dead wearing shoved under a desk in the front hall. Alec’s threadbare black sweater draped over the back of a chair, and a paper cup from his favourite coffee place sitting on one end of the bar. Alec must be spending more time here than he’s admitted to Jace and Izzy.

Jace is glad his brother has found someone, although he still can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that it’s someone so…glittery. He feels genuinely bad about the timing of his arrival tonight, though. It was obvious from Alec’s startled-deer impression and Magnus’ glare that he hadn’t exactly come in at the right moment. Alec is used to Jace embarrassing him by now, at least, but he’s also pretty screwed up about sex, and about relationships in general, so it was probably uncomfortable for him. Jace, having had a front row seat to Maryse and Robert’s bigotry and the maze of guilt and suspicion Alec navigated through his miserably closeted teen years, figures his brother is probably entitled to be a bit of a mess on that front. He has a pretty good idea what it costs Alec to defy his parents and the Clave and choose Magnus. He thinks, based on the care he’s seen Magnus take with Alec these past few weeks, that Magnus probably understands too. Maybe Alec even talks to him about it.

Jace thinks that would be a good thing. He and Alec haven’t talked about Alec’s sexuality in a long time, except obliquely. For years, Alec was so twisted up with self-hate and shame that Jace and Izzy learned to leave it as an open secret, because trying to talk about it elicited nothing but miserable silence from Alec. Even when Jace had decided to push a little, the night before the wedding that never happened, he hadn’t been sure he’d gotten through. “Be true to yourself” was, admittedly, sort of a cryptic way to put it, but he hadn’t wanted to break the fragile truce between them. He’d been sure, after, that Alec was still going to throw himself headlong into a lifetime of loneliness for the sake of duty- and then Magnus had showed up at the ceremony. And miraculously, Alec had walked back down that aisle, away from everything he was expected to do and straight into Magnus’ arms. It was the bravest thing Jace has ever seen him do, and Jace has seen Alec take on a Greater Demon. Moloch has nothing on Maryse Lightwood and the Clave.

Jace glances out the window to the balcony, where Alec and Magnus seem to be done arguing. They’re looking out over the city together, holding hands. As Jace watches, Magnus sways towards Alec and rests his head on Alec’s shoulder. It’s teenaged and sweet and everything Alec never got to have when he was an actual teenager. Jace thinks the warlock can glitter as much as he likes, for that.

———————————————————————————————————————

_Jace is 17. They’re sitting on the floor in Izzy’s room, because according to Izzy, Jace’s room smells funny and Alec’s room is “oppressively neat.” It’s an ordinary Tuesday night, but Robert, Maryse, and Max are in Idris on business, and Izzy is very persuasive. She’s determined to learn to make cocktails; it’s her newest project, and Jace and Alec are no good at saying no to her, so here they are. Izzy’s determination to learn a recipe is rarely a predictor of success, and tonight is no exception. Jace kind of liked the blue one that tasted like Windex and gummy worms, though._

_Izzy has a couch and a couple of chairs arranged in one corner of her room, and they’d started the evening there, but that was several drinks ago, and nobody is really coordinated enough to sit in a chair anymore. Now, Alec is slouched against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him, listing a little to the right. He’s been staring morosely at his phone all day, but Izzy’s bizarre concoctions seem to have cheered him up a little, temporarily at least. Izzy is sprawled out on the bed with her hair hanging over the edge, perfectly happy to keep talking upside down. She’s telling a story about some vampire she and Aline met at a club last week, and even Alec is laughing at the way she tells it. Jace is leaning back against the bedpost, feeling relaxed and straightforwardly happy. He’s having such a good time, and they didn’t even have to dress up or figure out convincing fake IDs. It’s totally not awkward at all, just the three of them. Izzy has the best ideas._

_“We should definitely do this always,” he announces, gesturing expansively with his glass. “Lightwood-Wayland Tuesday booze and bonding time! The Clave would totally approve, this is quality team-building right here.”_

  
_Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s also grinning fondly at Jace and sliding bonelessly down the wall. Jace and Izzy are pretty buzzed, but Alec is decidedly drunk. He doesn’t come out to the clubs with Jace and Izzy when they go, so he’s a bit of a lightweight. Jace thinks it’s probably good for him to relax; he’s been pretty tightly wound, lately. Alec is hard to read at the best of times, but the past couple of weeks he’s been especially taciturn, which usually means he’s more miserable than average. Maryse and Robert aren’t easy on him, and he’s even harder on himself._

  
_Alec’s phone buzzes again, and he frowns at it for a long moment, then shoves it clumsily back in his pocket._

  
_“Who’s blowing up your phone, big brother? Is there something you want to share with the class?” Izzy teases, rolling over to get a better look at Alec. Her face falls as she sees him right side up and registers his somber expression._

  
_“No, Iz. Nothing. You know damn well I never have anything worth sharing,” Alec shoots back tiredly. There’s a long silence, and if this were any other night that would be the end of it, but he looks so miserable, slumped against the wall, and he’s drunk and his guard is down. Izzy slides off the bed and goes over to him, sits down next to him, and presses her shoulder to his._

  
_“You know it doesn’t have to be, like, a date or a big relationship drama for you to talk to us, right? You’re our brother. We care about you. We want to know what’s going on with you, even if it’s…well, complicated.”_

  
_Alec groans and scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s Gabe. He’s just…pissed off because I told him I can’t do the Idris youth leader conference with him. It’s nothing.”_

  
_Izzy looks confused. “What? But you’ve been talking about the conference forever, Alec! You have to go. Mum and Dad would…”_

  
_Alec cuts her off, “Yeah, I know. I have to go. I’m still going, just not going with Gabe. I can do a solo presentation, it’s fine.” Alec seems to be ready to stop there, but Izzy glares and waits for him to elaborate. And after a moment, he takes a deep breath and starts talking again, his voice quiet and full of hesitation.“It’s just…I can’t keep working with him. It’s a lot of hours and it’s a distraction and it’s better if I do an independent project. I don’t want to get any more involved. There isn’t anything there yet, but I’m afraid…there could be, if I’m not careful. So that’s why…” He trails off wretchedly and drops his head in his hands. “Fuck. What a fucking mess.”_

  
_Jace is wishing he were more sober right now, because suddenly everything is very serious and Alec is actually talking. This is more words than he has ever said about the big, awful elephant in the room, the one that shows up every time Izzy talks about a date, every time Maryse and Robert try to set Alec up with a nice Shadowhunter girl. It’s not like Jace and Izzy don’t know, but Alec has never told them. He’s never even come this close to acknowledging that he knows they know. And now that he is talking about it, Jace is almost overwhelmed by the wave of guilt and misery, the helpless anger rolling through their parabatai bond. He thought he knew how Alec felt, but what he was feeling before was just a shadow of this. No wonder Alec is so shut down all the time, if this is what he’s concealing._

  
_Izzy looks like she wants to cry. “Alec, you don’t have to do everything alone. That’s not fair. You can’t just keep cutting yourself off because you’re…”_

  
_“Don’t, Izzy!” Alec spits out, like he’s afraid of what she’ll say next. “I’m not…I can’t. I mean, it doesn’t matter anyway because I’m never going to do anything about it. I can’t. You know I can’t.” The last part comes out sharp and impatient, nearly venomous, and Izzy visibly recoils._

  
_There’s a long, tense silence after that. Jace struggles to contain the onslaught of frustration and resentment rushing through their wide-open bond. They’ve done lessons with Hodge to practice controlling the way strong emotion tends to bleed through the bond, and up to now Jace has had no difficulty managing the occasional minor intrusions he’s felt from Alec’s side. This, though, is something entirely different. Alec has temporarily abandoned his tight control and left the gates wide open, and Jace is so caught up in Alec’s turmoil that he can barely tell how he feels for himself anymore. He clenches his fists, but it’s no use. He’s already speaking before he knows what he’s planning to say._

  
_“So, what, you’re just going to keep pushing people away and pretending it’s fine? You’re obviously not fine, Alec! You’re fucking sad and angry all the time, and we want to help you but we can’t if you won’t tell us what’s going on!” Jace hisses._

  
_Alec turns on him in irritation, but he must be a little unstable from the drinks, because he sways too far to the right as he tries to pull himself up to sit taller. He lurches sideways and Izzy reaches out to steady him, automatic. For a moment he glares down at her hand on his arm like he wants to shake it off, but then his shoulders slump and all the anger seems to drain out of him at once. Jace feels a rush of relief as the bleed-through from the bond subsides and his thoughts become clearer, but then he finds the channeled anger replaced with a leaden sort of despair, easier to manage but no less troubling. He takes a breath and tries to focus on what Alec is saying._

  
_“Okay, fine, you want to know what’s going on? I know you’re both trying to help, but you don’t get it, and you can’t help, because this is how it is. I don’t get to choose. I don’t get to have what I want. That’s never going to happen for me. This is as good as it gets, and I have to be careful not to start thinking I can have more, because that just makes it worse in the long run,” he explains, his voice flat. “It’s not like I’ve got nothing. I can fight, and I’m a good shot, so at least I’m good for something.” Alec wraps his arms around his long legs and curls into himself, tense and miserable. His hands are twisted in the cuffs of his sweater, but he keeps talking, more words all at once than he’s spoken in months._

  
_“It’s not just for me, either. I can’t afford to risk anyone else getting too close and getting hurt because of me. It’s toxic. It’s everything I touch. You know what the Clave is like. Even rumours can ruin people’s lives. Even for you guys, and Max, and Mom and Dad.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath and continues, “So I do have to cut myself off; it’s all I can do. I know I’m going to be lonely all my life. But that’s better than…than hurting someone. Which is what would happen.”_

  
_Izzy is really crying now, her face wet and her eyes red. Alec looks utterly defeated, sitting there hunched over like a hurt animal, wary and quiet, but when Izzy grabs his hand he doesn’t resist, just squeezes back without looking at her. Jace doesn’t know what to say, so he shuffles over to sit on Alec's other side, and carefully wraps an arm around his shoulders. Alec sags against him, dropping his forehead to Jace’s shoulder, and the three of them sit there for a long time in awful silence._

  
_Finally Izzy sniffles, sits up, and wipes her nose inelegantly on her sleeve. “Well, it’s not fair. It’s fucked up and awful and unfair, but you’re wrong about one thing, hermano. You don’t have to be lonely. You’ve got us. And we’ve got your back, whatever happens.” She pulls Alec in and hugs him hard, pressing a kiss to his messy dark hair. “And you’d better not tell anyone I cried. I have a bad ass reputation to maintain.”_

  
_Alec laughs wetly and swipes tears out of his own eyes with the heels of his hands. “Okay. Thanks, Iz.” He darts a sideways glance at Jace, uncertain, and Jace realizes this is Alec getting ready to shore up his walls, and they might not be able to talk about this again for a long time. He has to say something now, while the window is still open._

  
_“Hey. We’re parabatai. You know I’ll support you, always. I love you, man,” Jace says clumsily. Alec smiles, but he looks so sad, still, so Jace tries again. “‘Your people will be my people,’ that’s totally part of the oath, right? I mean, I don’t think I can deprive the ladies of the world of all this,”- he gestures grandly to his own grinning face- “but I can get a rainbow t-shirt, or paint my nails, or something? You know, in the name of being supportive.” He pastes a mock-serious look on his face, and Alec finally laughs and shoves him._

  
_“Sure, thanks Jace. I knew I could count on you,” he returns, grinning. And if his eyes still betray some hurt, Jace can’t explain it, so he decides to let it go for now._

———————————————————————————————————————

“Straight from Florence,” Magnus announces as he closes the door and the pizza in his hand disappears in a lick of blue flame and then reappears on the table, beautifully plated and still steaming, next to a generous bowl of salad. “If we’re going to slum it with takeout we might as well do it right, don’t you think?”

  
“Really? Isn’t that kind of a lot of work for…” Jace trails off, suddenly incredulous, because Magnus’ darkly lined eyes are a little too amused. He turns to Alec, who is grinning widely, obviously entertained to see his ordinarily smooth parabatai so easily thrown off balance.

  
“Yup. International takeout orders- just another one of those ridiculous Downworlder customs Mom likes to go on about,” Alec drawls.

  
“Be nice, Alexander,” Magnus scolds. “I’m hardly going to object to your Shadowhunter friends believing I’m even more glamourous than I actually am.”

  
“What would be really glamourous would be if you actually paid for the pizza,” Alec murmurs archly, looking up at Magnus over his shoulder from where he’s stretched out on the couch. Magnus huffs, produces a twenty from his pocket, and flicks his fingers as it is swallowed up in a gout of blue fire.

  
“Better?” he sighs, with an air of affronted dignity.

  
“So much better.” Alec smiles at him then, sweet and open, and Magnus smiles back like he can’t help it. Jace has never seen Alec this easy with anyone. It’s strange to see him drop his guard like this. At first Jace had been sure that his misgivings were founded on Alec’s choice of partner- Magnus Bane was not a name that would set any Shadowhunter at ease. Lately, though, Jace is starting to think the ache in his chest has more to do with the sudden lightness he can feel from Alec’s side of their bond, like an unimaginable weight has been lifted away. How had he been so unaware of that heaviness, when now that Alec is happy Jace can feel the lightness so clearly?

  
It’s not like it was before, Alec’s ascetic self-restraint and his loneliness translated through the bond as a constant low-grade tension, like the beginnings of a headache that Jace could sense whenever he reached for his parabatai. Everything Alec felt was so muted and so tightly controlled that barely a flicker of it was passed on. It’s different now. The change was slow, but now, especially when they’re in the same room like this, it’s so obvious; Magnus smiles at Alec and Jace feels a tiny reflected spark of wonder and elation in the pit of his own stomach. Magnus cards his fingers through Alec’s messy hair affectionately, and the last ripples of Alec’s wave of heat and contentment come lapping at Jace’s feet. Despite the voices of his education, Jace finds himself unable to dislike Magnus Bane.

  
They end up in the living room eating pizza with the mundane news on in the background. Jace tries not to look too fascinated, because both Magnus and Alec are mostly ignoring it, and he guesses maybe this is a habit for them. Alec has been disappearing at odd hours here and there ever since the wedding- maybe he and Magnus do this all the time, eat takeout and watch mundane TV.

  
Alec is still on the couch, and Magnus is sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning back against the couch. His shoulders are inches from Alec’s hand, and Jace gets the impression Magnus knows exactly how much farther he’d have to lean back to make contact, but he doesn’t. The position he has chosen, in front of Alec with his back unguarded and his neck exposed, is a tacit admission of trust. It’s not a gesture a Shadowhunter would make thoughtlessly. Jace wonders if the warlock understands the connotation. He doesn’t think Magnus Bane does anything without thought, despite his usual calculated air of nonchalance. It takes a rare kind of courage to be so explicitly vulnerable, and it’s not the kind of courage Jace has ever specialized in. He knows it when he sees it, though, every time Magnus stands in front of Alec with his big, glittery heart on his sleeve, every time he dares Alec to reach out and touch him, every time he lights up when Alec looks his way; it’s a thorough and determined campaign of flirtation and affection. Jace thinks the warlock must know, somehow, how much Alec needs to see that his touch isn’t something to be afraid of.

  
After a while, Alec reaches forward to trail his fingers over the back of Magnus’ neck, and Magnus shifts readily and pushes back into Alec’s hand, catlike. Alec’s fingers slip forward to linger over Magnus’ pulse, then glide softly down the long line of his neck. Magnus tilts his head and leans back a little more, transparently inviting. The collar of the loose, thin shirt he’s wearing is open almost down to his sternum, and his dark-lined eyes flutter closed, his posture somehow expectant and vulnerable all at once. Alec’s breath hitches minutely as he curls the tips of his fingers over Magnus’ collarbone, and Jace swallows and looks away. It’s nothing, they’re barely even touching, and yet Jace feels the intimacy of that moment more profoundly than any time he’s ever walked in on Isabelle and one of her conquests. When he glances back a few minutes later, Magnus has lifted one hand to meet Alec’s where it rests on his shoulder, and their fingers are lightly intertwined. Alec is staring resolutely at the TV, but his shoulders are relaxed, and he’s smiling.

After dinner, Magnus excuses himself to go “set up the guest room.” Alec and Jace clear the dishes, and Alec explains quietly that actually, Magnus has to go conjure a whole new room and all the furniture to fill it with, so he may be gone a few minutes.

  
“He’s kind of…heavily invested in the decor,” Alec says, smiling fondly down at the dish he’s drying, “so you should probably say something nice about the colour scheme or whatever.” Jace stares at him incredulously. As far as he can remember, Alec has never told him to say something nice, ever, and he doesn’t know much about colour schemes either. At his lack of response, Alec looks up, already embarrassed and a little defiant. Jace considers giving him a hard time, but in the end he settles on sincerity for once.

“Yeah, okay. I will. It’s really great of him to let me stay,” he says, handing Alec a plate to dry. “And of you, too. I’m sorry I crashed your date.”

  
Alec goes red. “That’s, ah, that’s okay,” he stutters. “We talked about it, and he gets it. You’re my brother. He doesn’t mind making the effort.”


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I stick to show canon, but Chairman Meow makes an appearance here as well because, I will be honest with you, I’d have a balcony full of cats if I could. As usual, Magnus Bane is living my best life. 
> 
> It took me an inordinately long time to figure out how to get across what I wanted to get across about Jace and Alec’s relationship in the flashback here, and I’d love to have more time to get into Maryse’s head in another story, but this was a fun place to start. Let me know what you think :-)

The kettle has just barely started to whistle when the sound dies with a sort of strangled yelp. Then a series of muted clinking and tapping noises, and bare feet on the hardwood floor move past the bedroom door, away into the other side of the apartment. Jace wakes up slowly, feeling strangely content, as the small, safe sounds of early morning domesticity ease him into consciousness. He shifts in his cocoon of blankets and doesn’t open his eyes, relishing the warmth and holding on to this last moment of sleep as long as he can. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in a bed this comfortable. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in a new place without a new set of bruises and a sense of dread. 

He pushes his face deeper into the softness of the pillow and breathes in sandalwood and citrus. Of course the sheets in Magnus Bane’s guest room wouldn’t smell like anything so pedestrian as laundry detergent. At home- at the Institute- the sheets smell like “clean breeze,” which is what they’ve smelled like as long as Jace has lived there. 

He remembers the first night he spent in New York with the Lightwoods. A new city, a new continent, a new family, but all he could really wrap his head around was the way the bed was too narrow, the way it smelled different and wrong. He remembers lying awake for a long time, afraid of the dark in an unfamiliar room, but more afraid to move and turn on the light. In the morning, he remembers sitting at the table across from Izzy and a two year old Max, exhausted but wary of these strangers, watching Alec move around the kitchen making breakfast for the three of them. He thinks now that another child, one less isolated, might have been confused at the absence of parents under those circumstances. For Jace, though, scared and tired and looking for stability in the wake of disaster, Alec’s matter-of-fact acceptance of responsibility for all of them was no stranger than anything else that day. 

And it’s been that way ever since, really. Alec is, against all odds, fantastic at taking care of people. He makes great scrambled eggs, he knows first aid, and he notices if you’re feeling sad or under the weather. Maryse and Robert weren’t uncaring parents, and Jace is never going to be anything but grateful to them, but they were raising their children to be soldiers. Jace, Izzy, and Max all figured out pretty quickly that Alec was the one to look for if they needed a bandage, or a battle fought on their behalf. Maryse was the engine of the Lightwood family, but Alec was the rock.

Isabelle calls Alec a buzzkill, but then Isabelle has always specialized in evasion and defiance when it comes to her parents, whereas Alec just keeps beating his head against that brick wall. His ability to push aside his own wants and needs for the sake of his family is either admirable or downright alarming, depending on the context.

Jace rolls over, pulling the blankets up over his shoulder and letting his thoughts drift. He wonders who Alec would have been, if he’d been able to be the perfect soldier and political asset Robert and Maryse wanted. Of all their children, Alec was the one who had come the closest to meeting their impossible standards. He’d done everything they’d asked of him, followed every rule, and accepted every punishment. His adherence to the Clave’s edicts had been absolute. Six months ago, Jace would have said that his brother’s prejudice against Downworlders ran deeper than his own. No clandestine dates with Seelies or stolen vamp motorcycles for the perfect eldest son. Since the wedding, though, Jace is beginning to realize how hard Alec was working to stay under the radar. It’s like Isabelle says; he doesn’t have a dial, he has a switch. The switch is flipped, so he’s not playing by those rules anymore. Not any of them.

Now that he isn’t hiding anymore, it’s actually pretty fun to watch Alec turn his sharp tongue and considerable determination to the dual purposes of pissing off the Clave and radically adjusting Maryse and Robert’s expectations. The only reason he succeeded in concealing so much of himself for as long as he did, Jace thinks, was because he was so devoted to keeping his family safe from the censure of the Clave. In trying Isabelle for treason and locking Jace up in the City of Bones, the Clave had unlocked Alec’s self-made prison for him, handed him the keys and let him wander away. As soon as he’d learned that his silence couldn’t buy his siblings’ safety, he’d been free to go.

Alec could have been the Clave’s sharpest weapon, a pitiless blade of white light without compassion or regret, and he would have done it all for his family, out of love. Jace feels sick at the thought. He doesn’t want to imagine Alec like that, lonely and bitter and trapped in a cage of duty and tradition. He reaches for their bond, needing to ground himself, and finds the familiar steadiness he seeks, but beyond that there’s a sleepy warmth that makes him withdraw carefully, unwilling to intrude. Still, the reality of Alec close by, safe, and loved has banished the spectre of the might-have-been, and Jace feels better for it, relaxed enough to realize he’s still tired. He lets the clinging drowsiness overtake him and pull him back to sleep.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

 

_Jace is 13. He’s hungry and late for morning training with Hodge and Izzy, but the kitchen is the last place he wants to be. He can hear Maryse and Alec through the door. Or at least, he can hear Maryse, and the way she’s talking, he can tell she’s talking to Alec._

_“Give me your other hand,” she says. She sounds tired; her voice is thin and quieter than normal. Jace peers through the hinges of the door. Maryse is bandaging Alec’s hands. It’s been three days since the seraph blade incident, which means it’s three days into Alec’s punishment. He’s grounded, and worse, he’s banned from blade practice for a month, and he’s had to triple his archery hours to compensate. Calluses don’t develop overnight. Jace takes one look at the first aid kit and the bloody wads of gauze on the table and turns away, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor in the hall, his stomach churning. The blood isn’t what’s making him ill; it’s the guilt._

_“I still can’t fathom why on earth you took that blade, Alec. And out of the Institute, all the way down to the river, of all places? That’s two Clave edicts broken at once, and I know you’re well aware of the importance of our laws,” Maryse says, sharp in that way she gets when she’s short on time or patience, which is often enough that Jace is familiar with the tone after 3 years with the Lightwood family. She sighs, and then continues a little more softly, “It’s not like you to be so reckless.”_

_There’s an expectant pause. Jace waits, sick with apprehension. Alec promised he would cover for them, but that was before the punishment was determined. It’s humiliating to be banned from bladework at this stage in their training. The seraph blades are more valuable than other weapons; they’re special, light-touched, sacred. It’s only been this year that they’ve been allowed to start practicing with them at all, and it’s important. It’s one of the most important things about being a Shadowhunter, along with the runes. And now Alec is banned, demoted to the bow again, a less prestigious weapon for a fighter who can’t face a demon close up. That’s not what Hodge says of course, but they all know it. The legendary Shadowhunters, the ones in all the stories, they fight with seraph blades, not long range weapons. The names of those blades are in the histories. Jace wouldn’t blame Alec if he did tell Maryse what really happened. He hopes Alec won’t, though. He doesn’t want to be sent away, and he’s terrified that if Maryse and Robert found out he’d screwed up this badly, they wouldn’t hesitate. He’s not their real son._

_Jace takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes, hoping. He can trust Alec. Alec will take care of it. He always does._

_Finally Alec answers his mother, his tone impassive. “Does it matter? I’ve accepted the consequences.”_

_Maryse sighs. “Well, it won’t change your punishment, no. But I’d like you to tell me what happened, Alec. Is there something going on? I know we expect a lot of you, but lately you’ve seemed…different. Unhappy. I’m worried about you, darling.” The last part is strained, like it’s being dragged out of her. Jace winces. If anything is going to get Alec to give in, it’s this unprecedented vulnerability from his mother. Maryse is tough as nails, but she relies on her eldest son a great deal, and she can’t always hide it as well as she thinks. And Alec knows it, and he never fails her. If Maryse finds out…Jace presses his fist to his mouth, tries to steady his breathing. Where will he go if he can’t stay here?_

_It’s not such a big lie, really. Alec can tell Maryse exactly what happened. He just has to say it was him that ran into the kelpie down by the river. That he thought it was just a faerie horse, that he got too close before he noticed its mane dripping wet with river water. That the teeth were like needles when it opened its wide, black mouth, and the seraph blade sang, a high, bell-like note, when he drew it and stepped forward to drive the thing back into the river. And how his feet slipped on the wet stone at the water’s edge, and he barely scrambled out in time, hauled himself up the bank drenched and gasping, as the white blade slipped down into the dark water, and the kelpie’s tail and hooves disappeared into the depths._

_Alec knows the whole story, because he found dry clothes for Jace and Izzy when they slipped back into the Institute after curfew, soaked and stinking of the East River. He bandaged Jace’s leg where it was bitten, and he wrapped Izzy up in his arms and told her it wasn’t her fault for wanting to see a faerie horse close up, and later that night, when he found Jace crying for the first time in years, sure he’d be sent away, that this would be the last straw, he reassured him. He promised that Maryse and Robert wouldn’t find out; he promised that Jace could stay._

_“It’s okay, Mom. I was struggling a bit with the blade training. I just wanted… It was stupid to take a blade out of the Institute. I know that doesn’t reflect well on you. I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again,” Alec says quietly. He hasn’t lied. Alec is awful at lying, if he has to be direct about it. His voice shakes, and he stutters. He can’t meet your eyes. But he’s pretty good at misdirection, and this time the guilt in his voice is even real. He probably believes he’s partially responsible for the way Izzy and Jace screwed up, just because he’s the oldest and he should have stopped them somehow. Jace is too relieved, for a moment, to feel bad about that. He lets himself relax fractionally as he waits for Maryse’s response._

_“Well. I’m disappointed. I thought you knew better. I hope this month gives you time to reflect on your priorities and remember who you are,” Maryse replies severely. “You are a Lightwood, Alec. That name comes with great responsibility. You must always be true to your name and your family in all things. I know you won’t disappoint me again.” There’s a strange kind of tenderness in her voice._

_“I won’t disappoint you,” Alec echoes. His voice is suddenly, inexplicably shaky. There’s a long silence, broken only by the small noises of Maryse packing away the first aid kit._

_“There. That’s done,” she says, and pauses. When she speaks again her voice is cautious, and much softer, as though she has stepped closer to Alec. Jace can barely hear her. “And…you’re sure there’s nothing else? Nothing wrong?”_

_“N…nothing, Mom. I’m okay. I promise.”_

_Now, Alec is lying, Jace thinks. He’s lying, but Maryse is going to believe him anyway, because she wants to._

 

_———————————————————————————————————————_

 

When Jace wakes up again, the apartment seems quiet. He grabs his toothbrush and the towel left on the top of the dresser- seriously, the warlock thinks of everything, what is this, a B & B?- and cracks the door open, hoping to make it to the bathroom for a quick shower before anyone else is up. He freezes, though, when he glances into the kitchen and sees Alec and Magnus there. His parabatai is leaning back against the counter, his posture open and relaxed as he watches Magnus making tea in a series of delicate, measured movements. Jace thinks fleetingly that he should make some noise, announce his presence, but he’s curious, held back for a moment by the unfamiliar, easy set of Alec’s shoulders. As he watches, Magnus sets down his mug and steps into Alec’s space, leaning one hip against the counter and tilting his head to meet Alec’s eyes.  

“I’m not worried about this,” he says, seeming to pick up on an earlier conversation. “Not about any of it. I don’t mean to dismiss your concerns, but I need you to know I’m not going to give up on this- on us- over temporary inconvenience or awkwardness. I meant what I said last night, about effort.” Alec’s expression softens momentarily at that, one corner of his mouth pulling into a smile before his features settle into a more familiar look of guilt. 

“I still don’t…You shouldn’t have to do all this. For me, I mean,” Alec stutters. “I’m just, I know it’s too early, between us, for everything that’s happening. The Institute, my parents, my brother staying in your spare room, dammit. I wish I knew how to do this right. I want…I don’t want to screw things up, with you.I’m sorry.” He turns to face Magnus, eyes serious, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Alec. As admirable and sexy as I find the whole strong-arms-with-a-heart-of-gold thing you have going on-” here Magnus sways forward even closer, teasing, to adjust the collar of Alec’s shirt, and Alec ducks his head and grins despite himself- “you’re not responsible for the situation at the Institute right now. It is not your fault. Though I’ve known you long enough by now not to think I can stop you taking on the responsibility of fixing what others have broken.” 

He pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing, “And as for my side of things…well, yes. Why else would I be letting myself get so tangled up with a bunch of impetuous, self-righteous Shadowhunters? Of course it’s for you. All of it. That’s not a problem for me. You’re a damn good reason, Alexander.” He lifts his hand almost imperceptibly towards Alec, but stops before touching him, lets it fall away again, flexing his fingers in an involuntary gesture of restraint. Alec is looking at Magnus like he can’t look away, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this, like he can’t quite believe his luck. The space between them is suddenly electric, and Jace has the impression the whole building could come crashing down right now and Alec would barely notice. Magnus’ voice is low and earnest when he speaks again.

“You said last night that for a long time you knew you couldn’t have what you wanted. You can, now. You won’t hurt me, because I want the same thing.Believe me when I tell you, Alexander, that your brother occupying my guest room during his hopefully temporary exile from the hallowed halls of your Institute isn’t going to make me change my mind about you. Neither is Valentine, or your parents’ politics, or any of the many, many other things I find less interesting than finding out _exactly_ what you’ve been wanting, and giving it to you,” Magnus finishes, a little breathless. His whole body is poised, waiting, but he doesn’t move, just fixes Alec with the same look Jace remembers from the wedding, eyes defiant and patient all at once, chin raised, mouth set in a determined line. 

Alec watches him carefully for a long moment. He twitches minutely forward, then catches himself, and then he takes a long, shaky breath, and his shoulders square and take on a charged stillness that Jace recognizes from the moment before he looses an arrow. His voice, when he speaks, is choked and very deep. 

“Okay. Yeah, okay, I believe you.” And then, all at once resolved, he presses Magnus back against the counter hungrily, chest to chest, hands curving around his hips to gather him closer. Magnus’ back curves into a graceful bow as Alec crowds in close, so close that when he speaks again their lips brush. 

“This is what I want. _You_ , Magnus.” Alec closes the last small distance between them then, kissing him fiercely, and Magnus just melts into it, ardent and unhesitating, his arms flying up to wrap around Alec’s neck. The mug of tea explodes in a shower of blue sparks.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

Later, when Jace finally, cautiously, opens the door again, he finds Magnus and Alec on the couch together, empty mugs and breakfast plates abandoned on the coffee table in front of them. Magnus is nearly sitting in Alec’s lap, and Alec has one arm looped around his back, supporting him as he leans forward to look at something on Alec’s phone. Magnus’ hair is falling in his eyes, and he’s wearing yoga pants and a too-large T-shirt Jace recognizes as Alec’s. One of Magnus’ cats is actually draped over Alec’s shoulder, purring. It’s definitely the least imposing Jace has seen Magnus look, and the most openly affectionate he has ever known Alec to be with anyone. Jace is a little stunned at the trust in him they’re both showing, just by letting him see this. It’s a striking contrast to the way Jace feels at the Institute these days, faced with suspicion and barely-suppressed hostility even from people he thought of as friends, as family.  

Alec looks up when Jace comes in, but he doesn’t startle or move away from Magnus, just gestures with his free hand in the direction of the kitchen island.

“Hey, I put some coffee on for you- the pot is over there, and there’s cream in the fridge. Because _some of us_ prefer not to corrupt our coffee with stolen goods from the Starbucks down the street,” he adds, the disapproving look he directs at Magnus slightly at odds with the way he tightens his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Magnus just raises one elegant eyebrow at Alec in silent reproach and lets himself be pulled closer. As Jace rounds the corner of the island, heading for the fridge, Magnus looks up and offers a lazy wave.

“Good morning. Welcome to the Bane Shelter for Stray Cats and Shadowhunters. The guest room is yours as long as you need it, and there’s a spare key on the table in the front hall. I don’t have many house rules, but I do have to insist that you don’t introduce Chairman Meow to anyone you bring home unless you’re planning to have them stick around a while; he’s very sensitive and he doesn’t handle upheaval well. He needs a stable home life in order to thrive.” Magnus lifts the tabby-striped cat off of Alec’s shoulder and cradles it in his arms tenderly. “Isn’t that right, baby?” he coos. Alec rolls his eyes, but Jace isn’t buying it for an instant. He can see Alec’s free hand reaching over to tickle the cat’s fuzzy white belly.

“Well aren’t the three of you just an adorable sight?” Jace thinks he intended to be sarcastic, but it comes out weirdly sincere, and he finds to his surprise that he means it. They are pretty adorable, after all, and it’s not like Alec has so many people in his life who are going to be kind to him about this, let alone protect him from all the unkindness coming his way because of it. It looks like Alec is willing to let Jace be one of those people, though. 

Jace is glad of that- not just glad, but fiercely grateful, because despite everything else that’s changed in their lives lately, he and Alec still have this. They’re on the same side, and Alec’s people are his people. He doesn’t know how to say that, though, so he tries to put a little of it into the way he smiles at them. He thinks he must be successful somehow, because when Alec looks up at him over Magnus’ shoulder, he smiles back, pleased and a little embarrassed, hiding nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of want to write a fluffy, self-indulgent coda to this fic where the whole gang comes over to the loft for breakfast a few years in the future and everything is adorable and nothing hurts. No specific plans for it yet, but I’ll keep mulling it over. This is it for now, though.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are loved, obviously :-)


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